


Inari Sushi

by sugacookiies



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Atsumu Miya Fluff, Fluff, GN Reader, Gen, Haikyuu x Reader, Miya Atsumu Fluff, Miya Osamu Fluff, Osamu Miya Fluff, Platonic Relationships, haikyuu fluff, platonic fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:01:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26373907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugacookiies/pseuds/sugacookiies
Summary: Short compilations of you and the Miya twins. Ranging from classroom antics to quiet, intimate moments, take your pick on these platonic pieces! Arranged in order of posting, not time.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu & Miya Osamu, Miya Atsumu & Miya Osamu & Reader, Miya Atsumu & Reader, Miya Atsumu/Miya Osamu, Miya Atsumu/Miya Osamu/Reader, Miya Atsumu/Reader, Miya Osamu & Reader, Miya Osamu/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 165





	1. 2.07pm

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I’ve always wanted to try out those timestamp writing bits so… Here’s a small fun piece that ended up way too long than expected, as usual. Not betaed, so sorry for any mistakes in advance.

It’s the last period of the day, and you’re about to find closure after two hours of a torturous mathematics lesson. Your head throbs with the effort you’ve had to put in to try and even stay focused for so long. You can’t wait for the end of class, and your mind starts to drift.

You tap your pencil against another equation that has been striked out. Why can’t you just find the answer already? You’ve put x there, divided it by that… But why won’t it work out? 

You sigh. Your shoulders are tense, and you roll them, wincing at the pops you hear from your back. You hear a snigger from the person sitting next to you, and you glance over.

Your eyes narrow when you see Atsumu pulling yet another stupid face, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. He holds up the question that he’s somehow gotten right, while you’re about to tear your hair out from the numerous failures you’ve gone through. How had someone as dumb as him gotten it right?

Frustration builds up inside of you. Grabbing your eraser in a fit of annoyance, you pull your arm back and fling it at him. Atsumu only has a mere split second to widen his eyes in shock before the eraser hits him on his forehead. His face scrunches up, and his mouth is screwed into a wriggly line as he tries not to curse out loud.

The droning of the teacher signifies that he isn’t aware of your stupid antics. He still faces the board, a whiteboard marker scribbling out equations and expressions you can’t even bear to comprehend.

You hear a snort behind you. Turning around, you catch Osamu trying to hold in his laughter. He’s doubled over, hand shoved over his mouth, shoulders shaking from the exertion. You find yourself smiling in spite of the fury that’s coming off of Atsumu in waves.

It’s the last period of the day, and you’re about to find closure after two hours of a torturous mathematics lesson. Your head throbs with the effort you’ve had to put in to try and even stay focused for so long. You can’t wait for the end of class, and your mind starts to drift.

You tap your pencil against another equation that has been striked out. Why can’t you just find the answer already? You’ve put x there, divided it by that… But why won’t it work out? 

You sigh. Your shoulders are tense, and you roll them, wincing at the pops you hear from your back. You hear a snigger from the person sitting next to you, and you glance over.

Your eyes narrow when you see Atsumu pulling yet another stupid face, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. He holds up the question that he’s somehow gotten right, while you’re about to tear your hair out from the numerous failures you’ve gone through. How had someone as dumb as him gotten it right?

Frustration builds up inside of you. Grabbing your eraser in a fit of annoyance, you pull your arm back and fling it at him. Atsumu only has a mere split second to widen his eyes in shock before the eraser hits him on his forehead. His face scrunches up, and his mouth is screwed into a wriggly line as he tries not to curse out loud.

The droning of the teacher signifies that he isn’t aware of your stupid antics. He still faces the board, a whiteboard marker scribbling out equations and expressions you can’t even bear to comprehend.

You hear a snort behind you. Turning around, you catch Osamu trying to hold in his laughter. He’s doubled over, hand shoved over his mouth, shoulders shaking from the exertion. You find yourself smiling in spite of the fury that’s coming off of Atsumu in waves.

Your eraser rolls to a stop right by Osamu’s foot. The twins share a look, and at the same moment, they dive for the tiny piece of rubber. You gasp as they collide, making quite a ruckus as they bump into the surrounding tables and grab each other by the collar.

You turn back to the front abruptly, licking your lips nervously as you see your teacher glaring at the twins. They haven’t noticed his scowl and Osamu tries to nab the eraser from Atsumu’s hand, while the blonde uses his free arm to whack his brother directly across the face. The look that Osamu gives Atsumu is deathly scary.

“The Miya twins, stand up now, please.”

They freeze when the teacher’s voice bellows through the classroom. They immediately break away from one another, scrambling up as Atsumu casts an accusatory glare at Osamu. He pretends not to notice, chewing on the inside of his cheek as the teacher sighs.

“You are to remain standing for the rest of class, and come see me after. Now, let’s get back to question six, shall we?”

You try to hide your smile in your hand as your teacher returns to the letters and numbers he’s written on the board. You feel Atsumu’s eyes boring into the back of your head, and he throws the eraser at you, hitting your shoulder. You jump.

You can’t help but stifle another giggle, ignoring him completely. You know how much Atsumu’s going to complain after class - how you started the whole thing in the first place, but didn’t even get caught! You try to think of how to placate the twins’ sour moods after.

You return back to the lesson, mind a little more sharp after the refresher. You wonder if Atsumu would be happy with the bag of gummy bears that’s been lying at the bottom of your backpack. Osamu seems fine, since he’s managed to embarrass Atsumu and get him in trouble simultaneously.

You wonder what you would do without the both of them.


	2. 8.15pm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Me wanting to fall asleep on the bus after night study caused me to manifest this in 15 minutes. Goodnight. Tbh I could never fall asleep on anyone’s shoulder because my neck would cramp lmao but this is insert for you not for me,, Enjoy!!

Your eyes are literally drooping shut as you stumble past the school gates. Your backpack threatens to slip from your shoulders, and you let out a loud yawn. Atsumu gives you a look of disgust, before asking you if you even know how to cover your mouth.  


You don’t bother replying to him. All you can think of is how numb your brain feels, and how you just want to curl up and fall asleep on the footpath right now. Tiredly, you shrug your heavy bag on properly.

The moon hangs heavily in the sky, while stars twinkle silently when you squint at them, struggling to pick them out from the street lights. Cicadas cry out as the three of you trudge towards the bus stop.

Who thought that it was a good idea to join the night study program? Having gone through six hours of school beforehand, along with co-curricular activities, you’re absolutely exhausted. You let out another yawn.

It’s a miracle you even make it to the bus stop without tripping over your own two feet. Drowsily, you take a seat on the bench as Osamu and Atsumu bicker over what drink to buy from the nearby vending machine. The cicadas reign the otherwise quiet night as the twins begin to sip their canned coffee.

You hum, eyes fluttering shut as you wait out the few minutes before the bus arrives. Your head swims with math equations, chemical formulas, and some literature quote about a demon and his staff. Eventually, however, you clamber onto the humming bus.

You sit yourself between Osamu and Atsumu in the last row, and you willingly close your eyes once more. To the gentle rocking of the bus, you begin to fall asleep, dreaming of demons that have blonde and gray hair.

You don’t notice the knowing stares that the brothers give each other over your droopy head, nor the way that your head gently rests against Osamu’s shoulder or the triumphant (albeit embarrassed) look he has on his face.

When you get off the bus, you ask Atsumu why he has your backpack in his hands, and why he’s squeezing the stuffed keychain you have so tightly. He tells you he was carsick.

You don’t think too much of it and bid them a sleepy farewell. Osamu’s glad you didn’t see his cheeks get stained red, and Atsumu struggles to sleep while wondering if he’s suffocated your keychain to death. 

You don’t mind the study program, you guess, as long as you have both of them with you.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Based on a real life thing that me and my friends did last year, minus the choking part. Yes, it was very salty, but it wasn’t half bad. Hope you enjoy!

It was all Osamu’s fault.

It started yesterday, when the male had been murmuring about how he had a craving for instant noodles right in the middle of class. Atsumu had somehow been clever enough to suggest a way for Osamu to eat the said food during lessons.

And that is why your thighs are clenching in anticipation, hoping that your teacher doesn’t see you pulling the thermos flask out of your backpack. Everyday at 9.30am, your school has a stipulated ‘snack break’, where students are allowed to munch on something during class.

You’re half sure Osamu was the reason why they had implemented such a measure.

Quickly, you turn around in your seat to hand the thermos flask to Osamu. You hear the muffled sound of crinkling plastic beneath his club jacket as he breaks the instant noodles into pieces, and there’s a few squeaks as he twists the cap of the flask open.

You and Atsumu wait with bated breath, ears sensitive to every single sound that you hear. There’s a quiet curse as Osamu tries to pour the seasoning into the water, and more plastic crumples between his fingers. The flask squeaks once more. Osamu places the metal bottle gently onto the floor by his chair, and you glance at the clock to take note of the time.

Each second that passes feels twice as long as it should be. Your teacher continues reading through some sort of literature passage, you impatiently switch your gaze between your book and the class clock every few moments. When the minute hand finally hits the number five, you discreetly lean back and rap on Osamu’s table leg.

You hear the flask being lifted off the ground, and he gives the bottle a few good shakes just to make sure all the seasoning has been dissolved. The flask squeaks open one last time. You hear Osamu take a big gulp of the noodles right as the teacher calls his name.

“Osamu? Could you stand and read lines 15 to 29, please?”

You hear the poor boy gag and you scoot your chair closer to your table, terribly afraid that he’s going to barf half chewed noodles into your hair. You give Atsumu a sneaky side eye and blanch at the horrified look on his face. The teacher doesn’t look any more calmer.

You turn around.

You’re not sure how Osamu hasn’t choked to death, but you’re sure you won’t ever forget the sight of noodles framing the sketch of a cat on his literature book. Your mouth hangs open, and Atsumu lets out the ugliest cackle you’ve ever heard. You try not to burst into laughter, looking at Osamu’s despondent face. The noodles slide off his book and onto the floor.

He doesn’t eat instant noodles for a month after that.


	4. 3.03pm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I can’t believe I’m ‘graduating’ from school next Thursday. It’s been four years, and it’s been too fast. Wrote this in a bid to understand myself after a talk with Laki today, and to come to terms that I can’t control what happens in the future. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Word Count: 490
> 
> Pairing: GN!Reader + Miya Atsumu + Miya Osamu

“So you’re going to go to Osaka, Tsumu?”

“Ya, I’m planning to go professional with volleyball, all of that cool stuff.”

It’s a humid Saturday, right smack in the middle of summer. The whirs of a mini fan fill the silence as you suck on your ice lolly. Its sweet berry flavour floods your mouth, and you pull it from between your lips with a soft ‘pop’.

“And Samu’s going to Tokyo to study culinary arts?”

Osamu doesn’t verbally reply to you - he’s way too caught up in polishing off his own lolly. You watch as he crunches off half of the frozen treat, cringing in secondhand pain. Instead, he nods instead of speaking, his dark eyes meeting yours.

“And I’m staying in Hyogo,” you say to yourself.

The fan continues oscillating, the pages of your history textbook fluttering in the wind. It’s hot, unbearably so, as you let the information sink into your sweaty skin. You’re a mess of too many feelings all at once - the coldness of the lolly, the perspiration that rolls down your back, and the tight lid that you force upon your trembling heart.

“I’m sure we’ll still talk. Don’t worry too much, yer get worry lines and become uglier,” Atsumu sneers, though you can’t do much but roll your eyes.

You swallow thickly. Osamu still doesn’t speak, as he finishes his lolly. He sucks on the wooden stick, as if drawing out any last bits of syrup was a vague possibility. Your lolly drips onto your hand. You flinch, hurriedly shoving it back into your mouth as you try to clean the mess up with a discarded tissue.

Never mind the thoughts that race through your mind - you’ll cross that bridge when you get to it. Whether you’re separated by a bullet train’s ride, or if Atsumu decides to chase volleyball halfway around the globe, you’ll leave all that happens up to fate to decide. 

For now, in the last few months you have left, you’ll cherish the moments you have left with them. You feel the sun’s heat on your skin, the stickiness of the lolly on your hand, and the emotions that come to a still in your chest. You relish in it, of every split second that passes you by.

“Can I have another lolly?”

“Yeah, go ahead, Samu. They’re all in the fridge.”

“Hey! Don’t get a headstart, ya bastard! I want the grape one!”

“Not if I get it first.”

You laugh to yourself as you watch the twins scramble to gain an inch ahead of the other, all shouts and bumps down the stairs and into the kitchen. You sit there, watching your textbook pages flutter in the wind. 

There’s a doodle you drew one day during class. Osamu’s head is stuck in an onigiri, Atsumu has a tuna hat, while you have angel wings and a pretty halo. 

You smile to yourself.

And you relish in it.


	5. 6.57pm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Inspired by all the Among Us that I’ve been playing recently, it’s really fun (although nervewrecking for me when I’m the imposter lol)! Hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Contains: Death, a bit of gore and blood, feat. some Inarizaki people
> 
> Word Count: 591
> 
> Pairing: GN!Reader + Miya Atsumu + Miya Osamu

You swallow nervously. You, Atsumu, Osamu, and Suna stand around the table that’s filled with a mess of volleyball equipment. 

“Tsumu, you go with Samu. I’ll stick with Suna. Remember, stay safe, and come back here within a few minutes,” you say, catching their eyes beneath the dim light of the gymnasium.

You shudder at the thought of what had happened a while ago. You had come across your beloved captain, Kita, lying on the ground in a pool of blood by the sinks near the field. You were simply trying to refill water bottles for the boys, but it seemed like things had gone south way too quickly.

Slowly, everyone had started to die one by one. Whether it was Aran with his neck lying loose in the storeroom, or Omimi stabbed in the chest, every single one of their deaths had filled you with dread. 

You were only trying to keep the club running smoothly. Though, blaring alarms alerting you to the water tanks or lights being cut often kept you from doing your duties. You rushed from here to there, hoping that you weren’t the next one on the killer’s list.

You watch as Atsumu and Osamu bicker with each other, almost seeming like they were about to stab each other in the back. You listen to their shouts fade away and turn to Suna.

“Have you finished all your duties?” you ask, trying to avoid his steel gaze.

“No, I have to fold the nets and put them back in the storage room.” Suna shakes his head before talking in a hushed tone.

His unreadable expression only adds to the prickling fear that makes your heart race. You and Suna work silently, picking up the net and folding it together from each end. You hold your breath a while longer each time your hands brush against each other.

Holding the last net to your chest, you waddle off to the storeroom to stack it along with the rest. Suna stands behind you, not too far away. You hear his footsteps grow louder the nearer he gets to you. 

Your heart pounds in your chest, and your head is full with anxiety. You don’t even have time to turn around as Suna’s hands clamp tight around your jaw and twist your head to the side awkwardly. A crude ‘pop’ is all you hear before everything turns dark.

The word ‘Defeat’ flashes across your screen.

“Samu! Ya dirty bastard! I trusted ya the entire time!” Atsumu screeches, tossing his phone to the side as his hands aim straight for his twin’s neck.

“Sunaaaaaaaaaaaa…” you whine, pouting at him. 

He stares on with nonchalance in his eyes, only giving you a small but proud smile. His and Osamu’s characters stand under the words ‘Victory’. Meanwhile, Kita is still prodding at his phone screen, asking Omimi why nothing is happening. Aran looks ready to join Atsumu in attempting Osamu’s murder. You switch your phone off, stretching your arms above your head with a loud sigh.

“Now, why don’t we actually clean the gym up properly?” you suggest.

It’s late, and you don’t want to get scolded by the principal for staying behind past club hours. The boys get up begrudgingly, except for the twins, who chase each other around while screaming insults. 

Ignoring them, you help stack the balls back in their baskets and wheel them into the storeroom. A lone Suna stands there, stuffing the nets into the cupboard. He turns and looks at you.

He smiles.

And you scream.


	6. 12.00am

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday to my favourite twin nerds

White light from your mobile phone illuminates your face, as you watch the digital clock turn into four zeros. Atsumu and Osamu sit expectantly beside you in varying degrees of visible excitement. The blonde is fidgeting, while his younger brother has at most a glint in his eyes. 

“Happy birthday, you two.”  


Your face descends into darkness when you put your phone down. Only the study lamp on your desk is switched on, while some streaks of bare streetlight sneak through your curtains. You’re bundled up in a comfortable hoodie and blanket, and a mysterious series of bags are in a pile next to you.

The twins thank you, but their eyes never leave the stack of gifts. It’s become a tradition after all these years. You’ll grab a bunch of random things, pack them up for the twins, and watch them go at each other’s throats for the best ones. Of course, they have a separate ‘proper’ gift dedicated to each of them.

[[MORE]]

“Get to it already, I bet ya bought that stupid lookin’ hat from Eight Eleven for Samu. Yknow, the one with the fake pink hair inside?” Atsumu gestures about his own head wildly, flashing a cocky grin at his brother, who seems like he couldn’t care less.

“Do you want to wait, or get nothing at all?” At your statement, he shuts up.

You rifle through the bags and eventually pick up a bunch of random things, and split them evenly between the two. At your word, they dive into your gifts, and you make a mental note to tell them to clean up their messes after.

Osamu’s eyes widen in surprise when he pulls out a bunch of snacks from one bag. They’re extra spicy chips, with chilis and devil faces printed on the front. The gears in his head are already turning to devise a plan to make Atsumu eat them (and possibly get diarrhea the next day).

Meanwhile, Atsumu stares in defeat as he holds a roll of toilet paper in his hands. It’s not even a new roll - it’s half used after you grabbed it from your own bathroom earlier that day. Your parents had given you strange looks when you emerged from the bathroom, looking like a toilet paper goblin.

“For you to wipe up all the shit you cause,” you quip, and barely dodge the roll as he tosses it at your head. 

Soon, most of the gifts have been opened, and your bedroom floor is a mess of wrapping paper and used bags. A tampon, ten-pack of erasers, plastic gloves, and an Eight Eleven fake hair hat are just a few of the items strewn about as well. All that’s left is the proper gifts you’ve prepared for them.

Osamu munches away on the spicy snacks. Atsumu’s too busy gulping down water, but his hand reaches into the snack bag anyways, desperate to show you that there’s no way that Osamu’s stronger at this than him. You find no reason to stop him. At least, he’ll find a good use for that toilet paper tomorrow.

You hand over the properly wrapped gifts, watching as the twins tear into the paper. Maybe next time you should just hand them to them in their original packaging. Atsumu pulls out a new hoodie. It’s from Adidis, and he’s been complaining about how much he’s wanted it for the past few months. Osamu holds up his set of spatulas, measuring spoons, and silicone mat. You’ve seen him eyeing them online, waiting for a sale that never came. Thankfully, you managed to score some coupons for both of their presents.

Atsumu has his arms tight around your neck as he proclaims you his ‘bestest friend ever’, while Osamu thanks you quietly. He starts thinking of what meal he could make you with his utensils, and experiments with the spatula by smacking Atsumu’s ass with it.

Night dwindles into morning with yells of posting unglams on your Unstagram story and how Osamu keeps stealing Atsumu’s hoodie. Yet another year has slipped you by. Of fleeting youth and dreamt dreams, of passed birthdays and new years’ eves, you take comfort in the consistency that are the Miya twins. The three of you fall asleep on your bed in a tangle of limbs and leftover bags, the Eight Eleven hat asked on Osamu’s head. 

There’s no one else they’d rather be with, anyways. They love you too much to let go, even if they don’t say it.  



End file.
